Don't Fret
by EnlightenedElementalWarrior
Summary: This is my sister's story on how Lupin became a werewolf


**This is just my sister's own version of the night our favourite werewolf became our favourite werewolf. My sister does not own Harry Potter, if she did all hell would break loose.**

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"Remus John Lupin!" I shouted into the night irately. Spreading light upon my surroundings with a torch, I ran across patchy lawns and up the residential street, searching diligently for my lost son. The more I ran, the more I saw his face looming in my mind. His light brown hair was flying about his charming face while his bright eyes beamed. I could see him opening his mouth as if to greet me, but then his face fell. His eyes were as circular as coins. He appeared simply stunned as if he saw an apparition that I could not. "Remus, my boy!" I panted, coming to a hault. I kneeled down to hug my son, but I felt my arms fall through thin air. I blinked and saw nothing. Tears welled up in my eyes. I had imagined him. I had imagined that my son was safe and that he was only going for a nighttime stroll. "REMUS!" I cried out, shedding tears onto the pavement.

"I found him!" a familiar voice penetrated the air.

"John!" I squealed, turning wildly. My husband came into view, carrying what appeared to be a bulky coat. His pace slowed as he approached me. His usual characteristic expression of kindness had been replaced with a shocking melancholy. He stared into the darkness as if he did not acknowledge my presence. "John, you said you found him. Where is he?" I sputtered.

Then I peered into the large coat, and there he was. My little four-year-old's face was not the same. His peaceful countenance had been reddened with what was obviously blood. I gasped in dismay. It was as if a heavy stone had fallen to the pits of my bosom. My tears had ceased, but there was a feeling of great mourning that seemed to hurt more.

"Greyback," my husband whispered, his eyes not meeting mine.

"What?"

"Greyback. He attacked our son," John elaborated, still not looking at me.

"Who on Earth is Greyback?" I asked. With what seemed to be an immeasurable amount of effort, my husband raised his gaze to fall on me.

"Fenrir Greyback," he began in a hollow voice, "is probably the most sadistic and famous werewolf in all of Britain." I turned away, slowly pacing my way back home. John followed. "Being a muggle, you have never heard of him, but just know this; his main aim in life is too attack wizarding children and turn them against their families. He just got our Remus, because…" and his voice faltered.

"Because what?" I interrogated aggressively. At this point it was clearly obvious what John had been afraid of admitting.

"Because I gave a speech to The Dark Force Defence League. I spoke out against Greyback and his actions," John said.

"So that's it then!" I howled in his face. John stopped abruptly.

"What is it?"

"It's your entire fault that my son is dead!" I accused, wanting to hit him.

"No!" he whispered urgently. "No, our little Remus is not dead. He's just…messed up a bit," John finished quickly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked, half curious, half furious at him.

"My dear," John breathed, walking again, "when a transformed werewolf bites a regular human being that person will become a werewolf too." I did not reply. Perhaps John took that to be a sign that I still had not received a satisfactory answer, because after a pause he hastily continued. "Don't get me wrong. He will still be human, but during the full moons he will transform like Greyback."

"And become a notorious murder machine?" I demanded, speeding up.

"Not exactly," John continued, patient as ever. "It is true that he will be violent during these periods of time, but if we take necessary precautions, we can prevent him biting anyone else. The true problem would be the difficulty in getting him into Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts!" I croaked, "John, you can not seriously think that I would want him going to a school for wizards when it was a wizard who betrayed me." For the first time ever, my husband gave me an icy glare. It chilled my whole body, and for a fleeting moment I felt as if I had gone too far.

"For your information," he answered through gritted teeth, "I have not betrayed you or Remus. Believe me, I blame myself for this tragedy, but do not assume so much!" I opened my mouth, wanting to say that I did not truly doubt his allegiance to our family, but nothing came out. I gaped like an idiot and then lowered my eyes to the ground, ashamed at my retort. However, John seemed to have understood, for his tensed muscles relaxed.

We continued to walk in an awkward silence through the front gate, over the threshold, down the corridor and into Remus's bedroom. After a flick of John's wand, Remus's face was cleaned, and I tucked the angel into bed. Neither of us moved after that. We just stood there, staring at him sleeping. "What was that you were saying about Hogwarts, John?"

"Well, assuming that my old Transfiguration teacher, Albus Dumbledore shall become Headmaster upon Armando Dippet's retirement, Remus should be able to study amongst others his age. At least, I hope so," John whispered, frowning. "Dumbledore has always been compassionate."

"What if they do not accept him?"

"Then I will have to train him at home," he answered, still focusing on our son's face. I peered up at him.

"I thought you said there were other schools?" I asked, puzzled.

"There are," he sighed, "but Durmstrang is not known for compassion, and if there is no hope with Hogwarts then it would be even worse with Beauxbatons. Of course, we could send him to Canada, but I don't think you would appreciate being that far from him."

"I wouldn't mind," I said, regretting what I said about wizards previously. John's eyes met mine, grey to brown. "I would want him to be educated in a school of wizards, even if it had to be abroad. He is your son after all." My husband's lips quivered for a moment before molding themselves into a playful smile, similar to the one he gave me the day we met.

"Our Remus is lucky he has you for a mother," he whispered, our noses only an inch apart. "Mark my words; one day he shall become one of the most celebrated men in wizarding history because of how you will have raised him." Remus stirred in his bed uncomfortably, as if he was waking up from a nightmare. He beamed then let out a giggle. Perhaps he was relieved in believing that his encounter with Greyback was just his imagination, but from that night on, I always feared the day we would have to tell him the truth. "Don't fret," John would say over and over again, "for he is braver than we could possibly imagine."


End file.
